


Shadow of Valla Prologues

by Ashardalon125



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22256419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashardalon125/pseuds/Ashardalon125
Summary: Before the war, there were still stories to be told. These are some of them. (Prologues and snippets for FE:Fates characters in my planned rewrite)
Kudos: 4





	1. Orochi: Buried Secrets

Orochi frowned at her cards as she performed her morning divination for the fourth time. Each and every one warned of a looming doom and a crux of fate to come in the course of the day. She had never seen her cards be so consistent or clear as they were now. If that wasn’t bad enough, the doom it seemed to warn of wasn’t a mild inconvenience; it was pure catastrophe. Her only relief was that the cards implied the doom would come later, even if the events that set it in motion were much closer.

She decided to alter her focus; focusing on divining the future was getting her nowhere. She needed to figure out what she had to  _ do _ . Tucking her deck away, she instead grabbed her favourite censer, checking to make sure she had enough incense to guide her. With a small gesture, she ignited the wick, watching the thin, fragrant smoke begin to pour out. As it drifted up, it began to curl over her head, towards the door of her room.

Following it, she stepped out into the hallway, keeping her eyes out for any signs. The smoke began to drift to her right, and she slowly followed it down the hall, passing some of the servants performing their morning chores. She paused as a draft made its way through the hall, and the smoke began to lean towards the stairwell.

“Where are you taking me?” she wondered quietly, pausing on each landing. It wasn’t until she got to the bottom that the smoke guided her to leave, and she stepped out into one of the many courtyards of Shirasagi. She half-turned, hoping that aiming the censer in the right direction might motivate it. She had no way of knowing how far away her target was, and she didn’t want to take too long.

Soon, the smoke began to point to the well-maintained garden in the middle of the courtyard, and she walked down the steps onto the cobbles, only to pause when the smoke died out. Popping open the censer lid, she was surprised to find that the incense had burned out entirely. With rising panic, Orochi realized that meant the information she was trying to find was either being obscured or required more power than normal. She was just about to turn around and go get her entire stash when she overheard a couple of voices.

“Do you think the Emperor is serious about the meeting today?”

Orochi froze on the spot, spinning to try and find the voice. On the other side of the courtyard, a pair of nobles were walking side by side around the edge of the garden. The second one shook his head in disbelief.

“I should hope not. I don’t care how she got here, she’s just some pilgrim. Meeting with the Emperor and Empress is a high privilege. Surely she could meet with one of the kannushi instead.”

“I heard she’s been performing miracles,” the other one said quietly, almost fearfully.

“Gossip of the rabble! I’ll believe it when I see it!”

And like that, they were gone, turned down a hallway. But Orochi had heard all she needed to, and it sparked memories. She’d heard the rumours of the mysterious pilgrim from the west. Supposedly, she was a woman who appeared near the Hoshidan-Nohrian border shortly after a major earthquake in the region. Apparently, she’d been making a slow, steady trek eastwards, assisting people along the way, all while carrying a baby on her back.

Orochi had dismissed it as hyperbole at the time, but if this was what her divinations were pointing her to, perhaps there was more to it. Quickly, she spotted one of the servants, and rushed over. “Excuse me, but where is the meeting happening?”

“In one of the small chambers, Lady Orochi,” the servant startled, bowing quickly. She eyed the censer Orochi held with clear unease. “I’m afraid I don’t know any more than that.”

“Thanks,” Orochi said quickly, bowing her thanks in a hasty duck to the side, transitioning to a sprint. Hurrying down the halls, she dodged a few more servants before she found her way to a familiar door, throwing it open in a hurry. Inside, she was relieved to find Kagero sitting with her paintbrush.

“Orochi? What’s the matter?” she asked, rising quickly, shuriken almost seeming to materialize in-between her fingers. “Has something happened?”

“No, no,” Orochi quickly assured, taking a moment to catch her breath. Kagero swiftly came to her side, helping her sit down. “Nothing happened  _ yet _ . But it  _ might _ . I need you to tell me where the Emperor and Empress are meeting the pilgrim today.”

“The small chamber beside the shrine,” Kagero informed her quickly. “The pilgrim is being housed in one of the upper guest rooms.”

Internally, Orochi was grateful for her friend’s trust. The ninja wouldn’t have told those details to just anyone, especially as quick as she had. “Thank you, Kagero.”

“I presume this has to do with her? Is she a threat?” Kagero questioned.

“I don’t know. My cards told me that today would be important, and that a catastrophe could be coming in the future. I think this might be what it was talking about, but I’m not certain,” Orochi admitted.

“That’s okay,” Kagero assured her. “I trust your intuition. So, what do we need to do?”

“I need to be in that meeting. It’s the only way I can be sure.”

“Have you been invited?” Kagero asked.

“Not yet. I came here as fast I could.”

“I can tell,” Kagero said with a small smile. “I would first ask the Emperor and Empress for permission. If you can’t get in, meet me on the south side of the hall. The protection of the royalty comes first.”

“Thanks, Kagero. I appreciate it,” Orochi said, hugging her friend.

“Of course. One question though; should anyone else be informed of this?” Kagero asked seriously.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to shift the tide too much. But if you want to tell Saizo to be on alert, I’m sure that’s fine.”

“Understood,” Kagero affirmed, and in a blink, she was gone. This time, Orochi didn’t even spare the time to be impressed.

After a quick trip back to her room for more supplies, Orochi rushed back downstairs, trying to track down the Emperor and Empress and ignoring the strange looks she got. She tried a few of the usual places, but found them strangely absent. As the meeting drew closer, she began to worry that she wouldn’t find them, only to turn a corner, and spot them walking in her direction.

_ “My lords!” _ she cried, running towards them. She practically slid into a dogeza in front of them.

“Orochi!? What’s the matter?” Ikona asked, her voice full of concern.

“I humbly beg your permission to attend the small chamber meeting,” Orochi explained quickly. “Please.”

“It’s not like Orochi to ask a favour,” Sumeragi observed, rubbing his chin. “If she thinks it’s important, I see no reason not to. Do you?”

Ikona shook her head with a smile. “You are welcome to attend if you wish. Now rise. You can walk with us.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Orochi repeated, bowing her head even as she rose and stood aside to let the royals pass her. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she fell into step behind them. As they walked, she was suddenly aware of the attention on her, and she fought the urge to retreat into her robe. In her hurry to find them, she’d completely forgotten her composure, and no doubt rumours were already spreading about her strange behaviour.

As they approached the small chamber, Orochi’s thoughts focused on the minutes ahead, pushing all else aside except for a lingering feeling of dread. She glanced down the hallway, trying to see anything out of the ordinary, only to see Kagero peering around a corner. They shared a quick nod, and then Kagero was gone, no doubt moving to some observation point.

As soon as they were through the door, Orochi shuffled off to the side, taking a place in the seats. She wasn’t as close to the thrones at the head of the room as she’d like, but she was relieved to see at least a few guards there. Reaching into her pack, she drew out a small bowl and waterskin. After filling it about halfway, she tucked the waterskin away before pulling out a small sliver of hinoki cypress, carved to a tapered point like a needle. Gently, she placed it on the surface of the water, letting it settle for a moment before blowing gently. Her breath spun the sliver, setting it in motion.

By the time it settled, the Emperor and Empress were approaching their seats, and she glanced between the two. As they took their seats, the needle finally slowed, pointing outside the chamber. For a moment, Orochi wondered if she had made a mistake, when the needle began to slowly drift, moving towards the doors.

_ Someone is approaching _ , she realized, and only a moment later, the doors opened.

A woman stepped in, followed by a pair of royal guards. Her long, dark hair starkly contrasted the white kimono she wore, likely loaned in order to make sure she was presentable for the court. Even without it, she would have cut a royal figure, with soft, graceful features that caught the eye, and a smooth stride that seemed entirely too practiced to Orochi.

She barely even turned her head as she walked, almost seemingly unaware of the others watching her. Whenever Orochi had seen commoners enter the court, they always looked about in awe or fear, but this woman seemed completely focused on the royal pair. Glancing down, Orochi was not surprised to find the hinoki needle followed her exactly. As the woman walked forward, Orochi’s chest tightened, until she finally stopped a respectful distance away from the royal pair and gave a deep bow.

“I offer my greatest thanks for granting me an audience, Your Emanancies,” she said in a lower voice. “That you could offer your time is the greatest blessing I could ask for.”

Orochi didn’t miss the pleased, if surprised, smiles of the royal pair. Sumeragi leaned forward, obviously intrigued. “What is your name, pilgrim?”

“Mikoto, Your Grace.”

“Why do you come to us today? It is rare for people to seek counsel with us, even pilgrims.”

“If I might be so bold, I have come to offer my services to the crown,” Mikoto explained simply, transitioning to kneel as the audience began murmuring amongst themselves.  _ How dare she think she is worth our royalty? Who is she to be so bold? What skills can she offer that we cannot? _ Despite herself, Orochi found herself agreeing with some of what she heard.

Sumeragi quickly raised a hand, silencing the muttering. To her displeasure, she could see an almost impressed look in his eyes. “You are bold indeed! What services could you offer us that we have need of?”

“I am a skilled mage, and a talented archer besides. I can guarantee that my skills will be of great use to you,” Mikoto stated. Orochi wanted to put it down as idle boasting, but she said it without so much as a waver or a change of her expression. If anything, she seemed almost...concerned, but not for herself.

Sumeragi’s smile only widened, and he slapped his knee excitedly. “An archer, eh? Well, I’ll have to see your skill for myself!”

“My lord!” one of the nobles interjected, rising to her feet. She gave a quick bow before continuing with her interjection. “I think it’s entirely too risky to allow a stranger to hold a weapon around you.”

“Do you take me for a fool or a weakling?” Sumeragi countered as he rose, his amusement dying quickly as his voice thundered in the hall. “I have no intent to test our guest without precautions. Besides which, I will remind you that I am not just the Emperor, but also a samurai.”

“Of course, my lord,” the noble acknowledged, hastily sitting down. Sumeragi stared them down for a moment longer before sitting back down and turning back to Mikoto.

“It would seem to me,” Ikona started, speaking for the first time. “That if you wanted to, you could join the clergy quite simply. We are always in need of fine sohei. What would you have of us specifically?”

Mikoto didn’t flinch, simply turning to look at Ikona. “I desire the chance to prove myself to you specifically. To show you how useful I can be. I will accept any challenge you lay down.”

“I admire your spirit!” Sumeragi applauded, once again smiling broadly as he turned to his wife. “If my darling wife agrees, I shall have one of my daimyo and kannushi design appropriate challenges for you!”

“That is fine by me,” Ikona agreed with a soft smile before addressing Mikoto. “Is there anything else? You have travelled far, and with a child no less. I am sure you must be tired.”

“I thank you for your generosity,” Mikoto bowed once again. “That is all. I take my leave.”

Silently, Mikoto turned around and headed back towards the doors, once again flanked by guards. It was only once the doors closed that Orochi let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

* * *

Orochi left the audience chamber as soon as the session was closed a few minutes later. It was clear to her that this Mikoto woman was the focus of her divinations, or at the very least connected. Stepping into the hall, she looked around, trying to spot her.

To her surprise and relief, Mikoto was still around, and seemed to be talking to some people further down the hall. Orochi was just considering what to do when Mikoto turned and spotted her, eyes widening slightly as if in recognition. She made a motion to excuse herself and began walking towards Orochi, who had frozen in surprise.

“Are you perhaps, Lady Orochi?” she asked politely.

Finding her voice, Orochi managed a small bow. “Orochi the diviner, at your service.”

“Pardon my boldness, but I was wondering if I might have you perform a divination for me? I am willing to pay, if that helps,” Mikoto inquired.

“N-No, that’s fine,” Orochi insisted, realizing this would be a good chance to get information. “You are an honoured guests of my Emperor and Empress. It would be my honour. Though I must warn you that I cannot guarantee results from the divination.”

“The diviner is merely a messenger. I am familiar with the sentiment,” Mikoto assured her with a mysterious smile. Orochi’s discomfort grew, but she pushed it aside with a smile.

“I’ll need to obtain some materials before we start,” Orochi half-lied. “Where should I meet you?”

“My guest room, on the third floor, if you wouldn’t mind. I must attend to my child.”

_ The child _ , Orochi realized with a start. The divination could have been about the child. With so much of their lives ahead of them and choices to make, divinations about children tended to be more powerful, if chaotic.

“Of course,” Orochi nodded. “I will be there in a few minutes. If you’ll excuse me.”

They bowed to each other, and once she was out of Mikoto’s sight, Orochi ducked behind a pillar and took a few quick breaths.

“Are you okay, Orochi?” Kagero asked, seemingly materializing beside her. Orochi jumped in fright, but quickly hugged her friend tightly. “I saw you talking to her.”

“She wants me to perform a divination for her.”

“That’s good,” Kagero observed. “It’s a chance to get more information.”

“But what if the cards tell me that something really bad will happen because of her?” Orochi asked.

Kagero paused, looking contemplative. “No matter what, I trust your judgement. If she is a threat to the realm, I’ll believe you. However, it will be harder to convince the others. If your cards point to danger, I will help you find more concrete proof. And if worse comes to worse, I’ll be ready.”

“Thanks, Kagero. You’re the best,” Orochi said quickly, hugging her friend tightly. “I gotta go get some of my tools. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

* * *

Orochi composed herself as she stood in front of the door to the guest room. Opening her pack, she double-checked to make sure she had everything she could need or want, only feeling relieved once she confirmed it was all there. Tentatively, she reached up to knock on the frame.

“Lady Mikoto? It’s me, Orochi.”

“Come in,” Mikoto’s voice invited. Steeling her nerves, Orochi opened the panel and stepped in. The guest room was small, but still somewhat lavish. Mikoto sat at a low table, smiling gently with a young child in her lap. Like their mother, the child had dark hair and soft features.

“No need to hover in the doorway,” Mikoto insisted, gesturing to the other side of the table. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” Orochi nodded, closing the door behind her. As she sat down, she let her gaze wander, and her eyes caught on an unexpected sight: a large, golden bow. She quickly realized it was large enough to be a yumi, and it was clearly quite ornate. The top was capped with a small Kinshi figure, while the bottom had a small sun adorning it.

“My bow,” Mikoto explained, smiling at it fondly. “These days, it’s important to be able to defend one’s self.”

“It’s...impressive,” Orochi said, staring in blatant awe. It hardly seemed like the kind of thing a pilgrim would carry.

“It was a gift from someone a long time ago,” Mikoto added, her voice carrying a hint of sorrow. “Sadly, it outlived them.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” Orochi apologized, returning her gaze to Mikoto, though she couldn’t help but glance down at the young baby. “What’s their name?”

“Corrin,” Mikoto said fondly, brushing aside a stand of hair.

“They’re beautiful,” Orochi complimented, setting her bag down to riffle through it. She found her personal deck first and set it aside, looking for her professional deck. Eventually, she found it, along with her incenses.

“I wasn’t aware we needed two decks,” Mikoto observed.

“Oh, this? This is my personal deck,” Orochi explained. “A friend made it for me.”

“Use whichever you prefer,” Mikoto invited. After a moment of consideration, Orochi tucked her professional deck away. She trusted her personal set more. It had seen more use and had more emotions poured into it. She began shuffling it, throwing in a few trick shuffles with a smile. She was happy to see Mikoto’s surprise at some of the fancier ones.

Setting down the deck, she set up her incense candles and lit them between her fingers using a touch of magic. As the smoke began to rise, she took a deep breath, feeling her head clear, all her thoughts and worries melting away. Letting fate guide her, she took the top six cards off the deck and arrayed them in front of her.

A red tag on wisteria; a black tag on peony; a red tag on bush clover; a left facing bush clover; birds above silver grass; an empty hill of silver grass.

Orochi leaned forward, eyes scanning the cards. The wisteria was associated with nature and courtly elegance, while the red tag was good luck. Something about success with either nature or royalty. Given the events of the day, Orochi leaned to the latter, though whether it was for Mikoto or the royals was debatable.

The peony, while foreign, symbolized good fortune and bravery. Sneaking a glance up at Mikoto, she could easily say that the woman was a foreigner. She had some of the traits of a Hoshidan, but some of her features spoke of Nohrian lineage, like her dark hair and pale skin. The black tag was more interesting to her. The king of colors, it symbolized royalty. While Orochi was used to repetitions of meanings and patterns in a reading, this was definitely unnerving given the events of the day.

Another red tag, but this time on bush clover. The first negative card, bush clover was associated with melancholy and unrequited love. The bow flashed in Orochi’s mind, and she briefly wondered if the wound might have been more fresh than she realized. Glancing ahead, she realized all the last four cards were autumnal cards, and all herbs offered at harvest moon festivals. Maybe an offering was involved?

The lone bush clover was more worrying, though the reversal might be indicative of a change in tide. Maybe the unrequited love would become requited, or the melancholy would wane? At just past the half point, it indicated the imminent future.

Silver grass, another autumnal plant, was often used to ward off evil when knotted together. The birds were interesting though. Their flight marked something recurring, though whether the birds were coming or going was in question. Was it a warning to ward against an incoming evil?

The final card unnerved Orochi. The hill under the birds was empty and black, save the stylized swirls of the grass covering it. The stark dichotomy of the black grass and the white sky made it seem too empty and...dead. No birds to be seen.

It suddenly occurred to Orochi that she hadn’t said anything to Mikoto for a few minutes, pouring over the cards. Looking up, she could see the woman was simply watching with quiet interest, though she quirked a curious eyebrow upon seeing Orochi’s gaze.

“What do you see?” Mikoto asked patiently. Orochi felt a little relieved once she realized Mikoto had been letting her survey the cards at her leisure. But her thoughts turned back to the cards, wondering how to pursue the avenue that had been revealed to her. Eventually, she decided on the most classic of diviner tricks: vagueness.

“In your past, there was an event of good fortune with royalty. Perhaps a chance encounter, or a beneficial engagement?” Orochi guessed, gesturing to the corresponding cards.

“More the latter,” Mikoto explained simply. Orochi waited a moment for more, but continued after a moment of silence.

“You are foreign. Royalty again, but stronger. Black,” Orochi explained, tapping the card. “Only the highest of royals are associated with black.”

For a moment, Mikoto’s eyes widened, and she looked away, trying to hide an obvious pain. “There was something involving high royalty. It was...a long time ago, though.”

“But it still hurts,” Orochi observed, tapping the next card. “Love that goes one way. Perhaps it was unrequited or perhaps they passed. But in all of it, there’s some good. A stroke of good luck.”

Orochi’s eyes went to the bow, and Mikoto’s followed hers. Silently, Mikoto nodded before looking down at Corrin, and Orochi connected the dots. “If I might be so bold as to ask…if they are royal, why are you here?”

“The situation is complicated. Needless to say, we cannot go back,” Mikoto said tersely, seeming to rally herself. “Let us continue, yes?”

“Of course,” Orochi acquiesced quickly. “The near future speaks of a reversal. Someone may become melancholic, or perhaps escape from it, I cannot tell. But this time, there is no luck involved.”

Orochi glanced at Mikoto but found that the woman was just watching her intently, hanging on every word, so she continued reading. “The future warns of a need for vigilance. A need to protect against evil, and a voyage. Either to or from the home of evil. When read with the previous card, it means that the final stretch will be the decider.”

Finally, she tapped the last card. “The empty hill. The birds have gone, but the ward against evil remains. It is along vigil, and an uncertainty about the result of the struggle.”

Orochi leaned back, feeling surprisingly drained from the reading. She looked to see if Mikoto had any reaction, but the woman was just staring at the cards, her eyes flicking back and forth between them, as if trying to find some kind of hidden detail. Suddenly, she looked up, meeting eyes with Orochi. “Did you...hear anything? Like a name?”

“N-No. My cards don’t give names,” Orochi explained, slightly confused.

“Of course...of course,” Mikoto said idly, shaking her head. “Thank you very much for your reading.”

“Did you have any questions?” Orochi asked, not wanting to leave right away.

“Sadly, I think this is something I’ll have to discover for myself,” Mikoto apologized, bowing slightly. “I appreciate your help.”

“Of course,” Orochi said, bowing back. “If you ever need another fortune read, let me know.”

“I will be sure to inform you if I do,” Mikoto said, smiling mysteriously once again. “Thank you very much, Lady Orochi.”

* * *

* * *

The end of the world didn’t come that day, or the next. It didn’t come within the week or the month. It never fully left Orochi’s mind, but it faded to the back as the rhythm of days carried Orochi along with it, like sand slowly burying a stone.

Now, the tide had suddenly retreated, exposing it to the light of day once more, all in the form of a letter. Months later, she’d received a letter, bidding her to travel to one of Hoshido westernmost provinces of Nankaido, signed by a familiar name.

_ Susano Mikoto _ .

It hadn’t been hard to obtain leave from the capital, but as she approached Tate, the capital of Nankaido, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. The thought that a wayward pilgrim had managed to get to the point of sending official documents in only a few months was rare. Even more so as she realized what had happened.

It hadn’t taken much prompting to learn about Mikoto, now both the daimyo  _ and _ kannushi of Nankaido. It was rare for even the highest of nobles to serve so highly in their local governments, and yet she had managed to seize both pillars of leadership for herself, and in such a treacherous region so close to the Nohrian border.

Since her divination months ago, nothing truly disastrous had happened. The usual push and pull of the ongoing war with Nohr, but no major offenses or losses. Part of her was willing to admit that maybe, just maybe, it had all been coincidence that Mikoto was there that day in the palace, and she had nothing to do with the divinations.

Orochi didn’t believe in coincidence.

Approaching the city on horseback, she rode at a slightly slower pace than she normally would for answering a summons. She knew relatively little about Nankaido, but she thought perhaps that seeing how the province was faring might help her get some insight into its leader.

In many ways, it was like many border provinces. Warriors and soldiers were posted in the streets and in the fields alongside the workers. Each farmer carried a scythe and a naginata. She could feel the suspicious eyes of townsfolk on her from windows and doors even as she presented her travel papers to the various guards in the towns she rode through.

But there were still good things that stood out. The towns were better fortified than even some of the larger provincial cities. At the very minimum, each town had a raised berm surrounding it, with several sharpened bamboo poles ejecting out of them, likely to deter cavalry. While the smallest towns had only simple berms, even the middle-sized ones had at least stone walls they seemed to be actively improving.

That all paled to what she saw as she approached Tate. Even from a distance, the city was impressive. A huge stone wall had been raised about the town, while a moat surrounded it. The farm lands lay outside the walls in sprawling tiered circles, with dozens of farmers tending them. As she approached, she passed in between a pair of yellow flags flanking the road. Similar flags surrounded the city in a larger circle, while closer in, orange flags ringed the walls, and finally, the innermost sported red ones. At a glance, she couldn’t see what purpose the flags served. The crops weren’t segregated by them, and the guard towers didn’t seem to have any connection either. It wasn’t until she came closer and she could spot the ballistae that she realized they were distance markers.

Even within the capital, ballistae were rare due to a lack of training. Orochi could see several atop the walls, spaced for good coverage. Milling between them were archers, and soldiers in robes that were either mages or priests. The border provinces were always on high alert for combat, but this seemed unusual even compared to that.

Orochi found her papers for the umpteenth time as she approached the gate, but she was surprised as the guards motioned for her to stop. Looking around, she could see some of the other people entering the city were stopping as well. One of the men moved up to her. “Papers.”

She handed her travel papers over, watching what the others were doing. Judging by the way they reacted, this must have been fairly normal. It was only a momentary pause before they were handed their papers back and waved on. She looked back at the guard, expecting to be waved on herself, but instead the guard was double checking the paper intensely.

“Our apologies,” he said after a minute, handing her back the paper. “Head right in. I’ll have one of my men let you in.”

Orochi smiled slightly to herself. It wasn’t often she was treated like an honoured guest, but she could get used to it. She nodded her thanks as one of the guards fell into step beside her horse, escorting her into the town.

Once passed the gate, she could see the town proper, and it was an impressive sight. The main street formed a straight path to the shiro at the center, and both sides were crowded with tall, multi-floor buildings that took up the entire block, only broken up with some radial side streets. The streets themselves were practically flooded with people, and she could see a few naginata poke above the crowds that belonged to the guards. It felt like entering into the business quarter of Shirasagi. Looking upwards, she could see people in even the upper windows, hanging laundry out on window sills or just talking to those below.

Following the guard, they proceeded towards the center, and as they got closer, Orochi could see there was another layer of defense. The shiro was surrounded by another moat, and the only bridges in were drawbridges.

_ Just what kind of conflict is she expecting? _

They were able to cross the bridge with no issues, and the guards even offered to stable her horse for her after giving her directions to her guest room. Orochi thanked them before entering the shiro. Even as she traced her way through the halls, the ever present feeling of security and vigilance followed her in the form of patrolling guards and more than a few mages.

She found her way upstairs to the third floor, where she counted doors until she reached hers. Opening the door, she was surprised to find Lady Mikoto waiting for her at a small table.Orochi quickly ducked into a bow. “Lady Mikoto!”

“No need for that,” Mikoto dismissed, inviting Orochi inside. “It’s been a while.”

“That it has,” Orochi agreed, looking around at the lavish room as she sat down. “This feels a bit like the last time we met, though.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Mikoto mused aloud.

“Though I dare say that you have moved up in the world since last time,” she teased, earning a small laugh from Mikoto.

“It does have its perks.”

“I’m curious; is there a Lord Susano?” Orochi inquired politely.

Mikoto shook her head. “No, though not for lack of suitors.”

“A single lady in charge? I could get used to that,” Orochi laughed.

“You flatter me. I simply have more important things to do,” Mikoto dismissed with a smile.

“I see. It’s quite... _ unusual _ for women such as us to be in such a high position of power,” Orochi observed.  _ And in such little time _ , she added mentally.

“Reward for service. Nankaido was carved from the worst lands of the neighbouring provinces. A meager reward in the eyes of some, but I’ve made it work,” Mikoto related with a proud tone.

“I can tell. The city looks prosperous and strong. Speaking of strong, how is Corrin?” Orochi inquired, noting the child was strangely absent.

“You have a good memory. They’re already growing well.”

“Very good,” Orochi nodded, pausing before she continued. “So what services do you require of Orochi? It’s not often I get called away from the capital.”

“Tell me, Orochi; why do you divine?” Mikoto asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Why do I divine?” Orochi repeated, caught off guard. “I suppose my family has been doing it for generations.”

“And yet you have your own personal deck,” Mikoto pointed out. “You don’t just do it out of familial duty. You have a passion for it.”

Orochi narrowed her eyes slightly, wary of the insight Mikoto was levelling against her. All of it was logical enough, but felt far too personal and close. To her credit, Mikoto seemed to realize this, raising her hands apologetically. “My apologies. I did not mean to offend. Unlike many, I greatly respect divination. You are to be admired for your enthusiasm and service. You are a rare breed.”

_ A rare breed _ ; something about the statement caught Orochi’s attention. Not many people used that phrasing, but she didn’t know its origin. Maybe it was a trace of a foreign accent? Mikoto was foreign, or at least, Orochi thought she was, but that didn’t narrow it down.

“I suppose it’s because divination shows the truth, or at least a way to access it. The truth is out there, and we can see it if we look. Legends always talk about how a single fortune could change the threads of fate and avert catastrophe. Something about that appeals to me,” she said slowly.

The smile she got from Mikoto was unexpectedly sympathetic and genuine. “I can understand that. Wishing to use your knowledge to save people. It must be hard when so many people would choose to ignore your warnings.”

“It is rather irritating,” Orochi admitted with a huff. “Orochi does nothing but—” she glanced up quickly, realizing she had slipped into her casual speech, but Mikoto simply smiled at her. “All I do is offer them advice and a way to proceed, and they act like I shackled them with their fates! It was going to happen either way; I simply hint at how to avoid it.”

“So you believe that everything is predestined?” Mikoto asked, her eyes gaining a challenging glint.

“Well, not quite,” Orochi corrected. “It’s more like...fate is a river. Looking ahead, one can see where the river is going, and can change their course. Sometimes, the river is strong and hard to fight, or the currents are unpredictable, and turning left makes you go right anyway. And other times...trying to avoid a fate cuts it short.”

“But you do believe there is more than one path one can go down?”

“In short, yes,” Orochi nodded, before furrowing her brow. “Why do you ask?”

“It seems we share similar worldviews. I suspected as much when we last met,” Mikoto said. “I was hoping that I might be able to request your services.”

“You want me to serve you?” Orochi questioned. “For what?”

“Let me show you. I think that will be more effective,” Mikoto answered, moving to stand. She motioned for Orochi to follow, which she did with mild hesitation. Mikoto was silent as she lead them through the halls. Eventually, she paused beside a pillar, reaching up to brush a panel with her hand. Magical symbols appeared, and the wall faded to reveal a staircase behind it. Mikoto lead the way, pausing to look back at Orochi.

Once Orochi stepped through, the wall faded back into view, but she could tell it was just an illusion. Even so, it felt like she had gone past the point of no return, and been locked into her river’s course. The stairwell spiralled up tightly, terminating in a doorway. From under her robes, Mikoto produced a key, which Orochi only caught a glimpse of. The head had a design Orochi had never seen before.

Like a star flanked by crescents, and at the base, another pair rose up to circle back to the top almost touching. A final pair of glaive-like slices ejected from the bottom of the crescents, their tips almost coming together around the shaft of the key.

They stepped into the room beyond, and Orochi took a moment to look around the room they found themselves in. It was surprisingly spacious, and had support columns to hold up the roof, even as high up as they were. The walls were lined with maps and bookshelves, as well as weapon and armour racks. It seemed as though an entire library and armoury had been brought into a single room.

A teal haired man looked up from one of the tables in the room, adjusting his thin glasses to get a better look at them, before his face lit up in recognition. “Lady Mikoto! How may I be of service?”

“Orochi, this is my personal strategist, Yukimura. Yukimura, this is Orochi, the diviner I spoke of,” Mikoto introduced. Orochi bowed deeply, which Yukimura returned excitedly, bobbing more like a bird.

“I’ve heard quite a good deal about you. A pleasure to finally meet you!”

“All good, I hope,” Orochi laughed. “You catch me at a disadvantage, though. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with you.”

“I’m not surprised,” Yukimura admitted, adjusting his glasses again. “I’m hardly the most well-known or high-ranking tactician in the army.”

“Yukimura is more brilliant than he lets on,” Mikoto added smoothly. “His plans have been instrumental to our success.”

“ _ Modified _ versions of my plans,” he corrected before waving off the thought. “But I digress. How can I help you today, Lady Mikoto?”

“I was hoping you could help me illustrate to Orochi what we do here,” Mikoto invited knowingly. Yukimura’s eyes went wide, and he raised his hands in protest.

“Are you sure that’s wise, my lady? She does work for the royal-”

“Yes, Yukimura,” Mikoto said sharply, her gaze narrowing imperiously. “Show her what we do.”

“If you insist, my lady,” Yukimura obliged with a bow before turning to Orochi. “Tell me, what do you know of us?”

“Uh...not much? Lady Mikoto is the kannushi and daimyo?” Orochi offered.

“I see. I will have to start from the beginning,” Yukimura sighed, gesturing to the table. Orochi looked over it, quickly identifying a map of Nohr and Hoshido that spanned the length of the entire continent, covered in tiny flags and threads like a complex spider web. It resembled the war room back in Shirasagi, only somehow more complex. “This is a map of the continent. Complete with political connections, regional politics, and as many records as we could get our hands on.”

“Why?” Orochi asked hesitantly, feeling like she was missing a crucial detail...and wondering if she should be concerned they had more intel than the Hoshidan royals.

“To prevent catastrophe,” Yukimura answered plainly. He continued speaking, but Orochi didn’t hear anything after that.  _ Catastrophe _ , just like her cards had warned. She had been right that day. She backed up a half step, then another as her mind began racing. Was she amongst vipers?

“Yukimura has a flair for the dramatic-” Mikoto started, but Orochi interrupted her.

“What kind of catastrophe? What’s going on here?” Orochi demanded, ready to go for one of her scrolls should the situation turn sour.

“Calm yourself,” Mikoto insisted gently. “I will explain everything. Once I do, you are free to go and take your own actions. I promise. You can leave right now if you wish.”

Orochi glanced at the door, but eventually decided against it. “Fine. I’ll hear you out.”

“Good,” Mikoto said, sighing in relief. “Do you have your cards with you?”

“Of course,” Orochi said almost defensively, pulling out her deck from her bag.

“Excellent. If I give you a word, can you divine it?”

“That’s child’s play.”

“Good. Alright, Yukimura, prepare anything she needs.”

“Right away, my lady,” Yukimura snapped, turning to look at Orochi.

“I have the herbs I need, but I’ll need some space. Over there should work.” Orochi pointed to a spot between some tables. “I just need a little bit more.”

“Consider it done,” Yukimura assured, rushing over to push the tables aside, only moving slowly enough to prevent the stacks of books from toppling. Mikoto, meanwhile, was scribbling on a piece of parchment, an unusually serious expression on her face as she wrote it down. 

“So, what would you have me divine?” Orochi asked.

Clutching the parchment tightly to her chest, she joined Orochi in the empty space as she set up her candles. “You must promise me that you will never, ever speak this word aloud. Not even under your breath.”

Orochi was confused for a moment before it dawned on her. “It’s a cursed word, isn’t it?”

Now it was Mikoto’s turn to be surprised. “Yes! How did you know?”

“Words have power. To prevent that power from being used, sometimes they are cursed. It’s a powerful but exceptionally rare type of curse. Or so my parents told me. Does it curse just by knowing it?”

“No,” Mikoto assured her. “Only by speaking it. On pain of death.”

Orochi could feel a chill run down her spine, but she extended her hand to take the paper. With a quick breath to steel herself, she turned it so she could read the scribblings.

_ Valla _ .

Definitely foreign, and something she’d never heard of. She wasn’t sure what language it was, but she didn’t need to know how to pronounce it in order to scry it. Orochi repeated it in her head a couple of times before handing it back to Mikoto. The trio sat down in the ring of candles, and she watched as Mikoto burned the paper, no doubt to prevent anyone from ever reading it.

Putting it from her mind, Orochi instead focused on the swirling smoke, chanting the word over and over in her mind. As she began to drift, it became more lively in her head, and she could hear the echo in her mind, correcting her pronunciation. She let the fog carry her away, following the whispers of words.

Then suddenly, like a waterfall, she was in freefall, and she felt her breath catch. There was a moment of terrible, vast silence before the roar of information overtook her, plunging her in the river of knowledge.

_ Valla _ . A lost kingdom beneath the land, and yet apart from it. Images, impressions, raged about her as she struggled to keep her head above water. She could see floating islands and grand palaces, fierce dragons, and the world in flames.

Dragon rising, their scales as bright and colorful as a rainbow, their flames pillars of light against the sky. Not just any dragons— the _First_ _Dragons_ , and their home. One dragon in particular kept watch under his rein, where the people prospered and the land was fertile. Orochi felt her heart swell in sympathetic pride and joy of the reverence the past had for the figure. But soon the river turned cold, and she felt despair, and anger.

The once-benevolent dragon began to lose himself, and lashed out against spectres that no one but him could see. All went dark, and madness turned on madness, consuming every last shred until only a tiny light managed to fling itself away, nearly destroying itself in the process. Finally eclipsed in its all encompassing hatred, the once-great Dragon schemed in his dark sleep.

Then the land was awash in flame and death. The decrepit bodies of the villagers rose, blocking out the light of the sun, and the screams of those who left rung out. Amidst it all, a pair of figures in regal robes slipped away, sinking beneath the ocean. One of them threw out their hands towards the dark dragon in the sky, as if desperately reaching out towards him even as they sank beneath the waves. “ _ ANANKOS!”  _ Orochi could catch a glimpse of their familiar dark hair before the image changed.

Two small figures, their hands just touching, outlined in fire. They looked like children, and in the firelight, she could see the trails of blood on them, and something within her knew it was the blood of dragons.

Finally, she could feel herself begin to fade out of the vision, but she was suddenly seized by an overwhelming, cold feeling. As she struggled for the surface, she could feel something  _ else _ , reaching out for her, trying to drag her under and drown her. It was so close…

**DIVINER.**

**YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU MEDDLE WITH.**

A dark, terrible voice thundered in her mind, shunting out all other thoughts and feelings except for fear. The grasp was overwhelming, and she could feel the light of reality slip away as it began to pull her under.

And then it was over, and she found herself on the floor of the war room, Mikoto leaning over her. It took her a second to realize Mikoto was talking, no,  _ shouting _ at her, her voice sounding like it was fighting its way through water.

“Orochi?  _ Orochi! _ Are you okay?”

“I’m...I’m okay,” she said weakly, slowly sitting up. She felt strangely sore, and for some reason, her face stung. “Ouch...that stings.”

“My apologies. I had to bring you back to us. I may have...slapped you,” Mikoto apologized.

“Trust me, compared to whatever  _ that _ was, I prefer it,” Orochi laughed. “What  _ was _ that?”

“It was...him,” Mikoto replied hesitantly, and it took a second to realize what she was implying.  _ Anankos _ . Orochi’s blood ran cold as she realized what had almost taken her.

“That was..real?” Orochi asked, already knowing the answer.

“It was. I trust you saw the end of...that place? I was there when it all burned.”

“You were the figure in the water!” Orochi realized.

“I was. I escaped using an ancient portal with my sister’s help. She escaped, too.”

“Where is she?”

“Nohr. She’s working her way into the favour of King Garon,” Mikoto explained, helping Orochi stand.

“We...we have to tell the Emperor. If that thing is still there-”

“We can’t,” Mikoto argued sadly. “Just think about it. If I told the Emperor that word, what would happen if he accidentally said it? He’d die, and that’s just what he wants. That’s assuming we could convince him. And even if we could, his rashness might lead him to take action before we’re ready, and it all ends the same.”

Orochi bit her lip, trying to figure out a solution. “So what can we do? I  _ saw _ it. That’s not something you can beat!”

“There is a way,” Yukimura interjected. “There exist people with the power to defeat him.”

“Who?” Orochi asked, grabbing his robes before realizing it. “The children I saw! The two children in dragon’s blood! We have to find-”

Orochi paused as she saw Mikoto, who was staring at the ground with the most heartbroken expression she’d ever seen. “Lady Mikoto, what’s the matter?”

“One of the children is mine,” she admitted. “Corrin is one of the children.”

“Wait...you mean?”

“Yes. He...it was my husband at one point. I didn’t know at the time, but after he died, I learned the truth. We fled shortly afterwards, on the last night the portal was open.”

“When does it open again?” Orochi asked nervously.

“Judging by the records, it should be just shy of two decades,” Yukimura offered. “Without the priestesses to manage the portals, they can only naturally open on a cycle, and we’re on the waxing end, which means it will take longer. Unfortunately, he has agents on this side, which allows him to extend his influence.”

“So we just have to find his agents, right?” Orochi asked, hoping it was that simple, but Yukimura shook his head.

“He is more clever than that. Already, his power has grown beyond our power to simply snuff out. He has agents active amongst us, as well as hidden ones. Even if we were to find every active agent, we would never be able to find all his hidden ones. He is not called “The Silent Dragon” for nothing. No, we cannot uproot this infestation, but we can keep it trimmed.”

“And what happens in twenty years when the portal opens?” Orochi questioned.

“We hope we’re ready,” Mikoto answered tiredly. “That’s what we’re trying to prepare for. We can’t stop him from acting on this side, but we can be ready for when he comes. And when he does come, we will need the forces of Nohr  _ and _ Hoshido to fight him. If either of us falls, the dead will outnumber the living, and there will be no hope. If we do not stand together, we will both fall.”

Orochi was silent, trying to accept everything she had been told. She wanted to turn. To run, and scream, and cry. To deny everything. But she had seen and felt it, and there was no denying the gravity of what she had just learned. If they didn’t act, in twenty years, everything would be destroyed. Everyone and everything consumed.

She had no choice.

“So what do we do?”

“You’re joining us?” Mikoto asked, clearly nervous.

“We’re in this boat together. The waterfall is coming, and if we don’t work together to steer the boat away, we’re all going down,” Orochi answered, summoning what confidence she had left.

Mikoto smiled slightly, offering her hand. “Then I welcome you to the Order.”


	2. Nyx: Be All My Sins Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Nyx came to join the Nohrian Royal Court, and how she ended up in the conflict against Anankos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not of Egyptian culture, nor am I a speaker of the language, so all references in the above text were sourced using online resources to the best of my abilities. I apologize for any inaccuracies or mistakes. If you notice something incorrect, please inform me, preferably with reliable sources. With that out of the way, here are some translations:
> 
> Haankhes: Nyx's last name. Roughly means "May she live."
> 
> Mdju Netjer: The closest translation for the name of the ancient Egyptian language I could find, since Egypt itself comes from a Greek word
> 
> Hwtka-aakhu: Roughly means "Mansion of the Spirit of God"
> 
> Aakhu: A sort of deific term relating to spirit
> 
> Khaibit: The shadow of the soul in Egyptian spirituality
> 
> Aakhu-heri-ab: A god of light, or similar concepts
> 
> Aqduat: The underworld
> 
> Ash en-utchu-t Khaibit-iar, asht kheru her met-t, uai ash: This is a very, VERY rough translation that means "I pray to the god Khaibit and the judge of souls to give me power over the cursed name."

Nyx smiled to herself as she lifted the tome up delicately. It was quite thick, and her thin arms almost struggled to support it. Inhaling deeply, she could smell the age on the treated linens. It was no comparison to papyrus, but it was hard to find books written on it this far north. Laying the book down, she ran her fingers along the edges of the pages, feeling the slight crinkling of time and elements. Selecting a random page, she flipped the book open, ready to render its secrets before her eyes.

She couldn't read it.

Nyx frowned slightly, leaning forward to investigate the script. At a glance, the writing seemed familiar, but something was off. The letters weren't smudged or ruined, and yet it was unreadable. _Perhaps an obfustication spell?_

It would be a simple matter to unbind the spell, or find its key, but she didn't know the spell off-handedly. Reaching for her pack, she pulled out her own spellbook, muttering a quick location charm. Blowing on the pages, they flipped open on their own to the page she needed.

As she beheld the similarly obscured writing, she briefly wondered if perhaps the curse was contagious, before another realization hit her. She could feel her stomach begin to twist, and the ice begin to creep in her veins, even as she pushed them back. She closed her eyes, reaching into her pack. Almost immediately, she could feel an all too familiar texture against her fingers.

Steadying her breath, she pulled the object out, opening her eyes to behold a sight she knew too well. A small, hand-crafted doll that draped limply in her hand; small even by her standards. She could only summon a faint spike of rage, too tired and numbed to even bother with that.

Instead, she laid the doll down, trying her best to ignore the faint aura of black beginning to accumulate around her limbs. She could hear the commotion beginning to start outside. A few panicked yells of surprise, which quickly turned into fear. Nearer, she could hear choked groans of pain and the sound of people falling to their knees.

Nyx tried to block it out as her hand reached the door, opening it without hesitation. The sooner she got this over with, the better. In an instant, the weather outside had gone from a bright day to dark and overcast. Throughout the village, she could see people leaning against walls or on their knees, coughing and choking.

" _You!"_

Nyx didn't turn her head at the accusation, having expected it any moment now. This was usually about when it happened.

"It's her!"

"She's killing us!"

" _Get her!"_

In an instant, the mood had turned from pained to outraged. People pulled themselves up, even as their bodies twisted and rebelled, and their limbs withered like a plant under the sun. With jerking, jolting steps, they approached with pitchforks and scythes, long-repressed murderous intent burning in their eyes.

She didn't even flinch as the first blade swung towards her, stopping inches from her face on some invisible field before shattering. The shrapnel ripped into her attacker, throwing him back. He didn't get up, and in moments, he was reduced to little more than shriveled skin on bones.

"I'm sorry," she muttered lamely. She knew it didn't matter, but it felt wrong to say nothing. No matter what she changed, it didn't matter, but if she stopped saying it, what did that make her?

She met each curse and shout with the same words, watching foggily familiar faces twist into skulls. The last attacks barely even reached her, and she could see some of the bodies were trying to crawl away. Even further out, the unmoving bodies of those who had tried to run. Some were as small as she was.

By now, the dark aura around her had grown into an eclipsing penumbra, starting to swallow her vision as it crackled viciously, as if animated on its own will. Looking down, she could barely even see her own body any more as it raged out of control.

Despite everything, she prayed vainly that this was it. That, just this once, the nightmare would end here.

She felt the hands on her shoulders, and knew it was too much to ask for.

She forced herself to turn around at the weak grasp. Two figures were reaching out to her, their hands unable to find any grip on her robes as the flesh burnt on contact. It seemed almost like they were reaching into her flesh as inch after inch of their arms disappeared into the void.

And beyond them, the burnt and twisted faces. It would have been a mercy if their flesh had been burnt away cleanly. Instead, it smouldered like candle-wax, running and dripping down. Sightless, dark pits were bored where the eyes had been, even as they twitched, desperately trying to see. Their voices caught in their throats, simultaneously an airy whisper as the air in their lungs burned and a gurgling as their flesh ran down their mouths.

Nyx continued to watch, shaking as she tried to hold back her emotions, even as the sight was consumed by the darkness around her.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

Nyx's eyes opened slowly, and she remained motionless as she awoke, feeling sensation return to her body. The tree she had fallen asleep against still poked at her back, but she made no motion to move.

 _Yet another nightmare_ , she noted passively. Finally, she adjusted her posture, sitting up straighter. For a moment, her joints complained, flaring in sore protest before it passed. With a quick gesture, she determined it was quite early in the morning.

 _I'm not going to get any more sleep_ , she decided, moving to stand. Shaking off her cloak, she held it in one hand while she slung her pack over her shoulder, feeling the familiar weight of her spellbook. Throwing the cloak around her, she pulled it closer to keep out the cold. While it couldn't harm her, it was unpleasant, and she'd be walking for most of the day to reach the capital.

Closing her eyes, she held out a hand, sensing her perimeter spell. Untouched, thankfully. Satisfied that nothing had come up in the night, she set about removing it. She didn't want any random passersby to accidentally set off the spell. That would be simply irresponsible.

Once she had cleared all traces of her presence, Nyx nodded to herself, turning to the bank of the road. The steep embankment meant she was not easily visible from the road, but also meant it was harder to get back up. Still, hesitating would not solve her problems. Digging her hands into the earth, she began dragging herself up, pausing only once she reached the top. After dusting her hands off with a quick gust, she reached into her pack, clasping her fingers around a small box.

With a quick flick, she opened it to reveal a compass. Taking another deep breath, she blew on the needle, setting it spinning, temporarily obscuring it in a mist. As it cleared, she could see it was pointing northwest, towards the capital. Just like it had been for a month.

Turning her feet, she began to walk. It was going to be a long trek to the capital. It was still strange to think that she was headed to such a high profile location. She'd spent decades living on the fringes of society, only entering long enough to find what she needed or to help someone in need. Certainly not long enough to settle down anywhere. But she'd never been to the capital.

Windmire was too big, too important. Even if she skirted the outer bureaus, there was always the chance of being noticed. Staying far away from the capital was the only way to ensure that even if anyone took notice, no one could act on it. And yet, now she was headed directly for the capital. A truly foolish, desperate action.

 _Desperate_ : the perfect word to describe her, she mused. Desperate enough to throw her path where divination took her. Desperate enough to go to the place she would most likely be noticed, and present herself.

Desperate to do something before winter ended.

Winter had only just properly begun, but each day weighed in her mind like a mountain. In only a couple of months, it would be February, and in turn, her birthday. Her hundredth birthday.

Almost a hundred years of unrelenting nightmares. They'd long ago stopped shocking or surprising her. At this point, she knew how her nightmare worked like clockwork. She knew the exact words to describe each and every horrific detail. But it didn't shake the feeling of constant exhaustion from interrupted and fitful sleeping. Or the constant weight on her soul she felt each time she relieved it. The images no longer frightened her.

Seeing them die before her was what frightened her. The anger and hatred with which they threw themselves at her frightened her. The years of pent up rage at the _thing_ she was, all waiting for the right moment to manifest itself, frightened her. With the knowledge that their lives were forfeit, they attempted to drag her down with them, relying on vitriol to push them when their bodies could not.

And the two figures that always terminated her nightmares. Unrecognizably burnt and rent asunder by her curse. Even as the faces eluded her, she knew precisely who they were. The fact that she could no longer remember their faces or their voices is what frightened her the most.

Nyx forced the thoughts from her mind. _This is why I am doing this at all_ , she reminded herself. Repeating it in her head, Nyx forced herself to walk. It was a long way to the capital, and if she was going to be thinking about this the whole way there, it was going to be even longer.

* * *

With a wave of a hand, she threw open the doors to the throne room, striding in even as they slammed against the walls. All heads turned towards her, rising confusion and panic in their faces, while the rasp of steel and the knocking of arrows came from the guards.

As the first wave of arrows flew towards her, they were caught in the malefic aura around her, withering away into clouds of wooden dust. The nearest guards charged, but a pulse of energy kept them at bay while their swords rusted and fell from their grasps. The courtiers backed away, even as King Ruhm rose to his feet, drawing his sword, his light hair falling about his chiselled face.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I am Nyx Haankhes, the sorceress," she shouted back, trying her best to draw herself up despite her small body. She turned her gaze away from the king towards one of the mages in the crowd who had been trying to sneak around to her blind side. Nyx levelled her hand at the offender. The woman began to choke, hands flying to her throat as Nyx worked her _Silence_ upon her. It wouldn't do to be interrupted.

"Why have you come here?" King Ruhm asked, unwavering. Nyx had to admit, he was putting on a far braver expression than she'd anticipated.

"Stay your weapon," she instructed, feigning disinterest. "I have no interest in bringing my hexes upon you. Rather, I think we can benefit each other."

King Ruhm met her gaze evenly, clearly weighing the decision in his mind. The noble arms were likely his best chance against her, and lowering his weapon would put him at a disadvantage. Gently, Nyx lowered her arms, inhaling deeply as she quieted her aura to a mere shadow around her. Tentatively, Ruhm lowered his sword, but did not sheathe it. "Speak, sorceress."

"You are no doubt aware of what they say about me," Nyx claimed, biting back the bile that rose with the statement. The very idea that she was using her dark reputation to her credit was enough to make her stomach turn, but it was necessary. "And thus, you know what I am capable of. I have need of resources, and a place for my studies."

"Y-You are hardly the type who should make demands of a king!" one of the courtiers mustered, attempting to puff themselves up, though they withered quickly under Nyx's glare.

"Stay yourself, Lord Hügel," Queen Weisheit instructed before Nyx had a chance, her voice calm and collected. She stood just behind her husband's side, watching Nyx with a cool expression. "We would know what you would desire, and what you would offer in kind."

"I am feeling generous," Nyx sighed. "I would desire an athenaeum of my own for research, as well as access to your libraries and archives. In exchange, I am willing to bend my magical prowess to your service, so long as it does not interfere with my own work."

"And what would these researches be?" King Ruhm inquired, surprising Nyx. She'd expected that the royals would jump at the chance to recruit such an obviously powerful mage. That had been the impression she'd gotten from what she'd heard, but apparently they were more level-headed than most gave them credit for.

"Magical research of all kinds. No doubt, things which would benefit you and your mages as well, should I be properly equipped."

"It seems to me that you want this deal, rather than simply offering from generosity," the queen observed, and Nyx smiled slightly to herself.

"It is true that I have a desire for your patronage. It would make my work much easier. However, I tire of negotiations. You can either accept my offer, or I shall turn, and never darken your doorstep again."

"No need," the King insisted, holding up a hand for her to halt. He gestured to one of the other mages as he spoke. "We will graciously accept your generous offer. Quickly, locate proper facilities for her!"

Nyx gave a small bow as the other mage approached her nervously, no doubt worrying he'd be evaporated simply by being in her presence. "Thank you, King Ruhm. You have chosen well."

She didn't bother to stick around for the court politics that followed, simply following the attendant mage. The fallout of her theatrics could be someone else's problem, and the less she had to listen to tales of her own exploits, the better. As luck had it, the lodgings weren't far, and she was led into a fairly lavish room with a large four-poster bed and a lengthy mahogany desk.

"Will there be anything else?" the mage asked nervously.

"I desire to be left alone. Have my dinner brought to the door," she commanded imperiously, and the mage nodded, practically slamming the doors behind him in his hurry to flee.

Finally alone, she let out a sigh, and flopped over onto the bed. For a long time, she just laid there, feeling herself sink into the soft blankets. Slow, steady breaths in and out, trying to hold back the surging waves of emotion.

Her eyes focused on the patterns in the fabric, even shaded as they were by her small frame, trying to block out the images in her head. The looks of horror and fear in the eyes of the courtiers. It had all been for a purpose, but it still didn't make it any less unsettling.

At least her control of the spell had been flawless. She refused to think about what might have happened afterwards.

She didn't know how long it had been when she finally lifted herself up on shaky arms. Every inch of her body felt exhausted, and yet she couldn't afford to rest just yet. She was in the hornet's nest now, and she'd kicked it to boot.

First was a quick but powerful spell to bar the door from opening unless she willed it, paired with a silent mental alarm should it be tampered with. Digging through her bag, she withdrew a small handful of downy feathers, cradling them in her hands, forming a small channel. With a deep breath, she blew them into the air, watching them intently.

Most of them fell straight back down, twirling in light paths through the air, but one danced to the side, carried by an unseen draft. Following it, she saw it fall beside the bookshelf, and she smiled at the predictability of it all. Closing her eyes, she sensed the space with her magic, feeling the passage beyond. A simple incantation barred the shelf into place and locked the level to her will, preventing anyone from using the backdoor. With her lodgings secured, she flicked her hand, creating a tiny tornado in her hand that she set loose upon the floor, carrying the feathers back to her.

 _That will do for now_ , Nyx thought to herself. Besides, she had a few years to truly make the place her own.

* * *

Like nearly every day for the past fifty-seven years, Nyx once again made use of the Nohrian archive. She'd poured over scrolls and tablets and every document she could get her hands on, but to no avail.

Still, she had high hopes for today.

A new shipment of ancient texts had arrived today, at her behest. From what she understood, they'd been plundered from amidst the collections of the Wolfksin of Mt. Garou, where the most recent campaign was being waged.

She made a note to thank King Garon for sending them her direction. The grandson of Ruhm had turned out to be quite the leader, having already swept the lands north of Nohr. Each day, it seemed his campaign pushed another mile, uniting the surrounding lands under the Nohrian flag.

Even amidst it all, he displayed a rare sense of magical respect, sending anything he claimed from the front lines back in order to have it studied, not to mention the mage corps he utilized with devastating efficiency. Ever since she'd shown up, the respect and power of mages had grown.

With the High Archmage Iago at the front-lines, that meant she was the eminent mage at hand, and so she got first claim on the scrolls. Even by the time she entered the archive, it seemed they were waiting for her.

"Lady Haankhes!"

"Archivist Wissen," she greeted, smiling at the elderly man. Wissen had been the apprentice to the previous archivist when she'd first arrived, and had taken the old man's place after he died. He was one of the few she maintained anything more than a cordial relationship with. "I heard the King has sent us some new material."

"Indeed. Judging simply by appearances, they are quite old," he informed her, leading her through the sprawling library. Given their antiquity, they were likely being held in a carefully maintained room, where they would be inspected by the archmages. "We thought it prudent to wait until you were present to inspect them, seeing as you would likely be more familiar with their contents."

"You should never comment on a woman's age," she said lightly, enjoying the way Wissen's mouth curled in a smile.

"I would never," he chuckled, opening the door for her. "After you."

Stepping in, Nyx recognized several of the others present. Wissen's own apprentice, Einblick, archmage Ges, and a handful of other mages were present. _Not that many_ , Nyx observed. _They likely think an old Wolfskin document isn't worth their time_.

"Is this all?" Nyx asked, just to be sure.

"High Archmage Iago assured us that they were likely to be unimportant," Archmage Ges noted dismissively as he picked up a scroll. "The Wolfskin are not the most literate of people, even nowadays."

"Even so, knowledge is knowledge," Nyx commented, sweeping the table with interest. She didn't know much about the Wolfskin, given how insular they tended to be. Not to mention distrusting of mages. Ges had a point though; the Wolfskin were not known for their exceptional record keeping, and so she hadn't spent much time interacting with them. "Any other notes?"

"No, Lady Haankhes," Ges said deferentially.

"I can handle these," Nyx assured him confidently.

"I must insist otherwise," Ges countered. "It would go faster with more hands."

Nyx was surprised, especially considering how dismissive the archmage had been just a moment prior, but he was at least correct on that front. Even glancing at the documents, she could see that they were written in an older dialect of Tierisch.

Muscle memory took over as she took out a length of paper and grabbed one of the inkwells for herself. Laying her tome on the other side of the unfurled scroll, she found her translation spell, briefly reviewing it. She would need it over the coming hours.

With a short incantation, the letters began to reassemble themselves, transitioning from unintelligible symbols to a script she was more familiar with: Mdju Netjer. There was something comforting about seeing her native tongue, even if no one else spoke it anymore.

Now it would be a simple matter of transcribing. Taking out her personal quill, she tapped it against the one she held in her hand, muttering a simple pairing spell, with her own personal twist on it. Gently, she set the paired quill on the paper, point down, where it sat affixed, before putting her own quill to the freshest page of her tome.

She began transcribing the translation, the other quill tracing out another translation in the Nohrian script. It had taken her some time to figure out the logistics of the spell, but when one had literal years of time to research, it was well worth it.

Reading through it, the text seemed to mostly be a collection of old Wolfskin lore. Probably an early attempt at collecting legends, if she had to guess. Certainly fascinating from a historical perspective, at least for anyone who cared about the tribes. Nyx smiled to herself as she read the legend of a chieftain who was renowned to have collected the most bizarre and strange things in the land. It seemed that the tastes of the Wolfskin hadn't evolved in hundreds of years.

"Lady Haankhes?" a voice asked hesitantly, breaking her focus. Nyx looked up, snapping herself out of her trance as she realized that Einblick had spoken to her.

"Yes, Einblick? What is it?" she asked, moving to stand beside him, and he tilted the paper in her direction so she could see it. Her eyes widened as she realized it wasn't leather paper, but papyrus, and the lettering was Mdju Netjer. Her language. "What is this...?"

"I don't recognize this script. It doesn't seem like Tierisch."

"It's not. It's Mdju Netjer. The language of my people," she explained, taking the papyrus gently in her hands. A wave of nostalgia overcame her as she felt the familiar texture. It had been ages since she'd held something from her homeland. Hwtka-aakhu had collapsed only a few years after her exile, with Cheve rising in its place decades later.

"Allow me to see," archmage Ges instructed, but Nyx ignored him, reading over the text. It appeared to be some kind of religious passage, given the tone and script being used. _This lettering was only ever used by the priests_ , she recalled distantly. It was a bit slower to read, but she could start to parse it out.

As she read, she realized it was the story of the gods of Hwtka-aakhu, namely the origin of Aakhu himself, and his two progeny, Aakhu-heri-ab and Khaibit, the gods of light and shadow, respectively. Even now, Nyx could recall the priests reciting the history of how their nation came to be. The whole history of how the land was created by Aakhu, and the foundation of the city of gods, Per-Aakhu. Guided by her memories, the text was easier to read, but what really stuck out to her was how complete it was. Even as she read, the detail that it went into was beyond anything she had seen, or even heard. It read more like a prosaic history than a sermon.

"It's a history," she said quietly. "Of the god Aakhu."

"Who's Aakhu?" Einblick asked.

"The primary god of Hwtka-aakhu. The land I was born in," Nyx explained. "He was the king of gods, and he created the land from his breath. It was his children that founded the kingdoms we know nowadays, or so legend goes. The western lands were ruled by Khaibit, while the eastern lands were ruled by Aakhu-heri-ab."

"East and west of what?"

"The Aqduat. The entrance to the underworld," Nyx explained. "Where I came from, the Bottomless Canyon is called Aqduat."

"I must insist on reading this," Ges demanded, extending an arm in command. Nyx gave him a harsh glare, unwilling to be parted with the text.

"I have the best grasp of the language. I can translate it," she insisted. Ges looked unhappy, but relented, returning to his text. Protectively, Nyx laid the scroll down between her and Einblick, pointing to a passage. "See, here is the legend of how he formed the land atop his body. I was told this one when I was young."

"It's strange to think that you were told these stories firsthand," Einblick noted with a whistle before he turned to his own tome. "Let me just cast my own translation…"

Einblick went through the motions, but frowned midway through. "There seems to be some kind of obfustication on this document. I can't break through."

"I wouldn't be surprised if the priests enchanted it," Nyx commented, probing it with her magic. She could sense the obfustication, but something was off. Compared to her own, it felt...strange. It wasn't Aakhun. Rather, it felt almost...Nohrian. "This enchantment is more recent. Maybe I can undo it…"

"Are you sure that is wise?" Ges inquired, looking up from his own text.

"I know more about curses than anyone here," Nyx assured him, untangling the spell even as she spoke. The more she prodded it, the deeper and more complicated it got. The obfustication was just the surface level. Something was underneath it.

And that something was reaching out.

"There's some kind of information curse on this," she said aloud. "I just need to figure out the trigger…"

"STOP HER!"

Nyx had only a moment to respond, throwing up a barrier as Ges' assistants stood, throwing spells in her direction. Her countermagic barrier threw the spells back, and her eyes widened as the assistants fell to the ground, instantly slain, and she realized they had intended to kill her.

She didn't hesitate to paralyze Ges with a quick spell, catching the archmage off-guard. In an instant, she had stormed over, kneeling over him, hand crackling with dark energy. "What was that for? What do you know about the scroll?"

Ges' eyes locked on her with fear, and he seemed to look for a way out before he suddenly went very still, his eyes rolling back in his head. Before she could react, his voice came out in a raspy tone as he fought the paralysis.

"Anankos."

In a flash, Ges was gone. Nyx barely blinked in the time it took for Ges' body to turn to water, pooling over the floor, staining his now empty robes. Nyx's mind raced, and she suddenly put it together.

Whipping about, she slung a pair of _Silence_ spells at Wissen and Einblick. " _Stop_!"

The pair looked at her with confusion and fear, and she quickly hurried back around to the scroll, trying her best to ignore the dead bodies. She turned to Einblick, fixing him with a serious expression.

"You heard what he just said, right? The word he _just_ said?" Einblick nodded, and she pointed to the paper. "I want you to cast your translation spell. Tell me if you see the word, but _do not say it_."

Einblick nodded again, and she removed the _Silence_ spell from both of them. With a shaky flick of his hand, Einblick was able to cast the translation now that the obfustication was gone. His eyes scanned the paper, then widened. Slowly, he turned to her, and nodded. "It's there."

"Thank you," she said quietly, taking the scroll from him. She closed her eyes, focusing her magic into the paper. Testing the edges, she could feel the magic deep inside. Focusing her mind on the word, she searched through the spell to try and find the trigger. It had to be some kind of information trigger spell. If she could just find the-

"Nyx! _Nyx!_ "

Nyx blinked groggily, and she realized she was on the stone floor with both Wissen and Einblick looking down at her with concern.

"Why am I on the floor?" she asked, slowly sitting up with a sore groan.

"I don't know. One moment you were holding the scroll with your eyes closed, the next you were on the ground. You've been out cold for a few minutes."

Nyx's blood ran cold, and she shot to her feet. Somehow, the spell had overcome her defenses and knocked her out. That had _never_ happened. " _It what?_ "

"It's true. You just collapsed. For a minute, I thought you died," Wissen said. "Your pulse stopped for a few seconds."

Nyx leaned against the table, horrified by the revelation. Not only had it overcome her defenses, it had killed her, if only temporarily. Her mind spun with too much information. Ges had turned on her the moment she started trying to probe it, and the assistants seemed too ready to leap at his call. The document was completely different from anything the Wolfskin should have had, and even if it had been found in Cheve, this seemed beyond even the priests of her time.

It made no sense. Unless…

"I need you both to leave."

"What? _Why?_ "

"I am going to get answers, and it could be risky to either of you if you were in here," she explained tersely. "Now, go!"

The two archivists shared a look, and quickly hurried out of the room. Nyx latched the door behind them, preventing them from entering, before turning to the bodies.

Kneeling beside them, she steeled herself for what she was about to do. It had been over a century since she'd done anything like this, and she had sworn to never do it again, but whatever was going on here was too important not to. Carefully, she inspected the bodies, ignoring the one that had taken their spell across the face. The lack of a jaw would make it difficult.

Fortunately, the other two were intact, and she dragged one of them over to the puddle of water, laying them down in it. The water seeped into their clothes, darkening their back. Dragging the other two bodies over, she ripped open their shirts before withdrawing a knife from her pack. With careful precision, she carved the proper sigils into their chests, linking the three bodies together.

She's already lost precious minutes to unconsciousness, and whatever had killed Ges was likely already working to cover its tracks. She placed her hand on the sigil of her target, pouring her dark magic into the wound. The body shuddered with a raspy gasp, and all three sigils began to glow red.

"I command you to answer me," she growled, digging her hand into the corpse's chest.

"I am at your service…" the body rasped in a hollow echo of Ges' voice.

"How were you killed?"

"I recited a cursed name."

"Who does the name belong to?" Nyx demanded. For a long moment, the corpse didn't answer, and she poured more magic in, trying to drag up the answer.

"Anankos, the Silent Dragon."

"Who is he?"

"The King of Valla," the corpse answered, before jerking a little. From deep within, Nyx could feel something else reaching up, trying to yank her control of the soul from her. But she simply dug her claws in deeper, draining the lingering life energy of the other two corpses to fuel her spell.

"What does he want?"

"He wants to kill the betrayers. Those who left him."

"Who are the betrayers?" Nyx prompted, knowing better than to stop now. She had a limited time, and she needed answers.

"Everyone. He would wipe the land clean," the corpse promised.

"How did he curse the paper?"

"He didn't. I think Iago did it," the voice of Ges provided. Nyx cursed internally. It seemed like even Ges didn't know everything going on.

"What makes you say Iago did it?" she demanded, only to flinch back in surprise as the corpse proceeded to jerk again, clicking its jaws aggressively. Then, before her eyes, it bit off its own tongue.

Nyx's mind raced. Whoever was fighting her was desperate to make sure the corpse didn't answer her questions. She quickly placed her other hand on the other intact body. "What does Iago have to do with this?"

"He's a servant of Anankos. He will be rewarded for his service," the corpse managed to get out before it bit off its own tongue as well. Nyx cursed, finally letting go of the bodies. She moved to stand, only for all three to suddenly turn their heads towards her, staring at her.

In that moment, she knew whoever was on the other end saw her, and she felt a wave of cold energy pass over her.

Then it was over, and their heads slumped over, finally at rest. Nyx regarded them, trying to put together all she had just heard. Anankos. Valla. Cursed names. Whatever was going on, it involved some seriously powerful magic. Nyx had never encountered anyone who knew how to perform necromancy since Hwtka-aakhu had fallen. As far as she knew, after her legend spread, necromancers were hunted down and killed, and she was the last one.

"You can come in now," Nyx said quietly, unlatching the door where she knew the others still waited. Wissen and Einblick stepped in nervously, their eyes turning automatically to the corpses, paling at the pooling blood.

"What happened?" Einblick asked, rushing to the side of one of them. His hand went to the neck, despite the obvious damage. He was about to turn when he noticed the sigil, and his fingers lingered in the space over it. His gaze was nervous and unsettled as he looked at Nyx. "What is this?"

"Sometimes, it's best not to ask questions," Wissen advised, glancing briefly at Nyx. "What did you learn?"

"These four were servants of him. So is Iago. Whoever is leading them wants to kill everyone," she summarized quickly. "They probably intended to destroy these documents after reading them."

"It's a good thing you were here, then," Wissen commented before looking at the bodies. "So what do we do now?"

Nyx looked at the corpses, her mind rushing with information. "I can get rid of the bodies and the magical trace. I'll copy the text into my own tome, and then get rid of it."

"Wait, why?" Einblick demanded. "That document contains important information!"

"It's also cursed, and I don't think I can dispel it," Nyx countered. "Whoever put that curse on it is stronger than me. If anyone reads it, they will fall under its curse too. The curse itself is dangerous, too. I couldn't even understand all of it, and what I could was bad. Besides, they're expecting the document to be destroyed"

Einblick looked unhappy, but finally nodded. "Alright. I suppose that's for the best. What then?"

Nyx sighed, looking at Wissen and Einblick sadly. "Whoever put the curse there has eyes and ears all over the place. I wouldn't be surprised if they were willing to interrogate someone. Therefore, I will have to wipe your memories of this event."

"Hold on, Nyx," Wissen insisted. "You can trust us!"

"I know I can," Nyx assured him. "But I don't want you two to suffer. If I don't, and they take you away, all it will take is one memory probe, and then they'll know you're lying. And then you'll be punished or killed. And I can't have that. My resistance means they can't probe my mind, but you two can't stand up to it."

"Is there any other way?" Wissen asked. He didn't sound angry, just...sad. And that hurt even more.

"No, I'm afraid not," Nyx said, shaking her head. "Ges killed himself. Anyone who inspires that kind of fear or possesses the power to make that happen isn't someone you take chances with. It's simply too risky."

Einblick and Wissen looked at each other, both seeming to shrink a little at the realization. Finally, Wissen spoke, adjusting his glasses. "All right. We understand. But until then, let us help you. It'll go faster if all three of us work."

Nyx smiled, nodding. "Alright. I could use all the help I could get."

* * *

Nyx hovered behind the columns in the banquet hall, watching the third day of festivities. Castle Krakenberg had been abuzz with celebration ever since King Garon had brought his latest consort back from the eastern front.

Her name was Arete, and according to what Nyx had overheard, she was a singer from Oststumpf. During the King's tour of their Hoshidan border, he'd apparently been invited by a local general to see a performance, and the rest was history. Several months later, they were here.

And carrying a child with them.

Nyx didn't have to be a genius to know that the child, Azura, wasn't Garon's. While he'd been gone long enough that it could have been his, if only by the narrowest of margins, she'd seen the baby. She was too big to be a newborn, and Arete didn't show any signs of recovering from birth. Not that the court cared, as they preened about noble breeding and other midwife myths.

Divination had laid the truth bare before her. The child was not Garon's, but even her magic couldn't discern who the father was, other than Azura had one. And Arete was not from Oststumpf, though her spell couldn't tell her more than she had come from the Bottomless Valley region. It was as if all information about Arete before a certain point simply ceased to exist.

The deeper she probed, the more she met with resistance that felt all-too similar to the incident five years ago.

Quietly, she approached the pair at the head of the table. In the first days of the festivities, the pair were constantly attended and swarmed by members of the court, making it hard to approach them. But now that the fervor had been tempered, she had an opening.

Even so, she could feel eyes turn to her as she slid out of the shadows and approached quieted in her wake, despite her diminutive figure. Yet, when King Garon laid eyes on her, he simply smiled, raising his glass in greeting. "Archmage Haankhes! How are you?"

"I am well, King Garon," she responded politely, nodding her head before turning to look at Arete with a small smile. "I came to see your new consort for myself. It seems she is as beautiful as they say."

Nyx swore she saw the faintest hint of a twitch in Arete's eyebrow, but she didn't say anything else. After a moment, the corner of her mouth curled into a polite smile, and she nodded in a controlled, cordial bow. "I am pleased to meet you."

 _For some country singer, she is exceptionally practiced in etiquette_ , Nyx noted. Fortunately, King Garon seemed to be more than happy to fill the silence between them.

"Archmage Nyx is one of our finest sorcerers. She's been part of the court since before I was born," Garon informed, earning a surprised look from Arete. The expression seemed almost foreign on her passive face.

"She is older than you?" she asked dubiously.

"It's not my place to speculate on a lady's age," Garon laughed with a small nod to Nyx. "But she joined during my grandfather's rule, and she was already a powerful sorcerer by then."

Arete looked Nyx up and down with a new look that reminded Nyx of a hunting hawk. Calculating, hungry, and yet restrained. "That is quite impressive."

"I was hoping I might borrow her ladyship later this evening," Nyx said, preferring not to dwell on the subject of her age. "I understand that she has many duties she must attend to, but I hoped I might be able to peer into her future a bit more."

"Of course," Garon said immediately. "I had hoped to ask you once everything settled down, but if you're ready now, then by all means. Assuming my lady acquiesces?"

Nyx held back a small amount of disgust at the obvious affection Garon held for Arete. Ever since he'd developed the realization of two genders, he'd been nothing but fawning over women, giving his passions readily. She did have to admit though, he somehow managed to balance it all, and paid each of them time in turn. Or as much time as they would accept, in Imke's case.

"I trust that she has your confidence?" Arete inquired.

"She's served my family loyally for years, and she was my magic tutor when I was younger. I have the utmost faith in her," Garon assured her, unusually serious. Internally, Nyx smiled; she supposed sometimes even she could be flattered by the King, even if he was just being honest.

"Alright then," Arete agreed, looking back at Nyx. "I presume that you will need time to prepare?"

"Any time this evening at the lady's convenience will work. It won't take long," Nyx said. The less Arete thought she was doing this for her own purposes, the better, seeing how wary she was. Fortunately, Garon was on her side, making the whole affair easier. With her piece said, Nyx bowed deeply, only glancing up to see if the King had dismissed her. As she returned to the shadows, she could feel Arete's gaze on her, likely trying to discern her motives.

Despite having months of time to plan their meeting, Nyx couldn't help but feel nervous.

There was no doubt in Nyx's mind that Arete was connected to Valla and Anankos. A mysterious songstress with no history who just happened to capture the eye of the king? Too convenient. To her relief, she wasn't the only one who thought it was suspicious, if the intelligence reports she'd scried were any indication. Before her appearance in the performance halls of Oststumpf, only scant records existed of her. A few of the local observers had sighted a woman matching her description a few weeks prior to her first performance, heading west on the roads east of Oststumpf. One observer stationed in the mountains on their border with Hoshido had seen a similar figure at a distance in the trails of the Bottomless Canyon. But before then, nothing.

Apparently, she also wasn't the only strange occurrence in the region. A few of their spies across the border had made reports of another woman, carrying a child of her own, heading east towards Castle Shirasagi. Apparently, she was a mage and archer of some skill, and was quickly garnering attention in Hoshido. And just like Arete, she'd been first sighted on the trails in the Bottomless Canyon.

It was all too convenient, but even her most powerful divination spells couldn't pierce the veil around the pair. The most she was able to draw out were tangential pieces of information, and she'd had to _dig_ for those. No doubt, some of her requisitions raised some eyebrows, but geomancy wasn't easy. Or cheap.

In the end, what she knew didn't amount to much, but it was enough. The two women were connected somehow, and both had come from the Bottomless Canyon region. They had not entered it from the outside, and they were not residents of any of the native villages that dotted the mountains. Both women were shrouded by the same mist that challenged her stronger spells and completely ignored her weaker ones. And the mist carried a feeling similar to the presence she had felt in those corpses years ago.

That told her they were connected to Anankos somehow, but didn't tell her what the nature of their relationship was. If they were allied, then they were her enemies, and a risk to everyone. In which case, the danger was trying to get rid of them without being able to tell anyone about it. She was still trying to find a way to expose Iago, but after his last slip up, the archmage had been annoyingly competent in covering his tracks and leaving no traces of whatever his biddings were. Anankos seemed to be shielding them as well, as Nyx couldn't find anything with her divination.

On the other hand, if they were Anankos' enemy, then they were valuable allies to her, and could have crucial information regarding their mutual enemy. The issue was trying to forge an alliance against someone when you couldn't even say their name.

Nyx shook her head, dispelling the thoughts. She was getting ahead of herself. She would first have to determine if Arete was a servant or enemy of Anankos, or something else. _Then_ she could plan.

Unfortunately, it seemed that time was running short, and she heard a knock at her door. Closing her eyes, she could see through her sensor that it was Arete. With a sigh, she rested her hand on her spellbook, ready for the worst.

"Come in," she invited. The doors opened, and Arete walked in, the very image of poise and control, her hands clasped in front of her. In her mind, Nyx could feel a tingle that told her Arete had brought a stave with her, likely hidden up her sleeve. Tensely, Nyx bowed. "My lady."

"Archmage Haankhes," Arete said, returning the bow with a nod. "I believe you wished to divine my future?"

"Of course. And to get to know you better," Nyx said, gesturing to the bed. "Please, do make yourself comfortable."

Arete walked with purpose, setting herself down lightly on the edge of the bed, looking ready to spring at any moment. Nyx waited a moment to see if she would say anything, but began preparing once it became apparent she was content with the silence.

"Tell me, how much experience do you have with divination, or magic in general?" Nyx inquired.

"None myself, but I am aware of it," Arete said noncommittally.

"Well, then this will be special," Nyx said with a forced laugh, digging out her crystal ball, and taking a small note of pleasure at the seemingly unconvinced expression Arete wore. Nyx couldn't blame her; many charlatans used crystal balls to lend their street magic an air of legitimacy. But true practitioners could draw out its real power.

Honing her magic, she started to cut off her senses, focusing it all into the crystal ball. It would leave her vulnerable, but she hoped that her wards would give her a chance to respond if anything happened, and this was her best chance. Feeling everything fade away, she held back just enough of her vision to be able to make out the outline of Arete in front of her.

Normally, she would begin weaving her spell to discern the future, but she had a different plan in mind. Such a spell would not work against Arete, no matter what she used, so she had to use something else. It embarrassed her to rely on such an underhanded method of magic, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Instead, she began weaving a psychometric spell, using the crystal ball as the focus. Even so, she poured a small amount of magic into making it seem like she was casting an augury, just in case Arete knew what she was looking for. It took a lot of effort, and the weakness in her knees wasn't entirely for show.

" _Ash en-utchu-t Khaibit-iar, asht kheru her met-t, uai ash_ ," Nyx incanted, bringing forth the spell. Her crystal ball began to glow, and she could see Arete's eyes widen in obvious surprise. It was then that Nyx decided to strike.

With a gasp, she feigned exhaustion, clutching her head before staggering to one side. Arete shot up, and Nyx stumbled in her direction. Reflexively, Arete went to support her, and that's when Nyx brushed her crystal ball against Arete.

That was all it took, and she felt the psychometric spell yield the answers to all her questions. Arete seemed so proficient in royal behaviour because she _was_ royal. A queen of Valla. And one of the only people to escape Anankos' onslaught.

"It seems we're on the same side," Nyx said, composing herself and dropping the charade. Carefully, she set the crystal ball back in its place as Arete stared in disbelief. "You too oppose _him_."

Arete stiffened as she realized what Nyx had done and what she meant. Her eyes narrowed, and with a flick of her wrist, the stave hidden in her sleeve was now in hand. Nyx deflected the spell with one hand, while knocking the stave out with her other. "Easy. I'm not your enemy, Queen Arete. And I know better than to say his name."

"How do you know who I am, if you are not his ally?" she asked.

"The spell I cast just now was not an augury, but a psychometric incantation. Simply touching you was enough to reveal the answers to the questions I asked."

"You shouldn't be able to penetrate my obfustication," Arete countered, almost angrily.

"I couldn't with auguries. Their channels are blocked by your spell, but psychometrics still work. A fact you should keep in mind," Nyx warned. "Although, it wasn't easy. I doubt many mages could do it without help."

"How do you know of _him_?" Arete demanded. Her composed expression was drawn up into one of outrage.

"Five years ago, I had an encounter with some of his agents when we were translating an ancient scroll from my homeland. They attempted to kill me and my companions before we could finish, but I was able to kill them first. I interrogated their corpses to find out who their master was."

"Necromancy," Arete observed, sounding slightly impressed. "I was under the impression it was banned up here."

"It is," Nyx confirmed. "However, I am almost a century and a half old. When I was a child, necromancy was thought of like any other kind of magic."

"I struggle to believe that you are that old. Even in the sanctified land of Valla, we rarely live beyond a century, and we certainly don't look as young as you."

"I have been placed under a rare necromantic curse," Nyx sighed. "I don't care to go into details, but I have remained this young since the moments of its casting."

To her credit, Arete's expression was less pitying, and more understanding. But even that fleeting moment passed, and was quickly consumed by her focused expression. "And by what guarantee do I have that you're not lying?"

"You are a talented spellcaster yourself, aren't you?" Nyx asked with a growing smile. "I'm sure you could perform any number of spells to ascertain the truth. I won't resist."

Arete regarded her suspiciously for a moment before raising her hands. Nyx waited patiently as Arete went through various incantations and motions. The entire time, she could feel the magic washing over and probing her, and her mind buzzed as it demanded her to use her barriers, but she ignored it.

After a few minutes, Arete seemed content, lowering her hands. "I see nothing that suggests you are one of his agents. It seems you are true to your word."

"I want to help you fight him. He is a threat to everyone," Nyx asserted. "Given your...history, I suspect you have a plan of your own."

"Yes…" Arete answered hesitantly, sitting back on the edge of the bed, her expression growing serious. "However, despite you not being an enemy, I cannot help but feel it would be unwise to explain all my plans to you right away. I prefer to keep some secrets."

"I can understand that," Nyx sympathized.

"If you wish to help, then there is something you can do for me. Once my daughter is older, I would have you teach her magic."

"Why me? It seems you are an accomplished mage yourself."

"And yet you were able to defeat me," Arete noted with a light smile. "Besides, I'm versed in the magic of my homeland. You have a breadth of magic I cannot hope to rival."

Nyx paused, thinking it over. It wasn't that hard of a task all things considered, but even so, she couldn't help but be hesitant. She'd learned magic at a very young age, and it had gone horribly for her.

 _But perhaps with my guidance, it can be avoided_.

"Fine. I will teach your daughter once she becomes old enough. But in the meanwhile, we should discuss other plans…"


End file.
